


I'll Always Wish You'd Been Mine

by ZankieForLifeBaby



Series: A Fine Mess [2]
Category: Big Brother RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 15:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3575093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZankieForLifeBaby/pseuds/ZankieForLifeBaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, I'll always miss you<br/>And I'll always wish you'd been mine</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Always Wish You'd Been Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of an alternate ending to "I'll Always Miss You" (http://archiveofourown.org/works/3542528). If you cut off the last paragraph (more specifically the last 3 sentences) of Chapter 3 and put this as the next chapter, you have a complete story...down one possible path...
> 
> I also added a couple paragraphs with background information, just so it could stand alone as a one-shot.

Zach walked up to the front door. He almost turned and ran. It was oppressively hot. He was already sweating and he’d only walked about a hundred feet. The humidity in Florida was going to kill him one day. 

He was dressed in a suit. It was black. It was boring. Zach felt uncomfortable in it. He wanted to wear something bright, but he didn’t want to bring attention to himself. He wasn’t even sure why he was here. He didn’t know why he had been invited. He felt like it was a mistake. His heart refused to let him decline the invitation, but his mind was always racing with excuses to back out.

He held a pink rose in his hand, the thorns already removed. He heard some people behind him, walking up the path to the door. He couldn’t run away now. He’d look too foolish. So, he knocked on the door.

Some man he didn’t know answered. He didn’t ask for his name, so Zach just walked in, looking around the familiar foyer. It looked the same as it had looked 4 years ago, the last time he’d been here. The smiling faces in the picture that was framed and hung on the wall to his right was the same. Five beautiful faces looked back at him—two men, three women. His heart wanted to burst out of his chest. It was beating too hard. His chest hurt. His eyes began to swim with tears, so he looked away, walking quickly from the room and away from the face he couldn’t bear to think about for too long.

He was walking too fast and he accidentally bumped into Joan. He dropped his head, feeling bad for running into her. This isn’t how he wanted to do this. He sputtered an apology and tried to walk away, but she followed him. She reached out and grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop and look at her. Her eyes looked tired. He could see that they were bloodshot. That made sense. Zach’s eyes looked similar and he knew it.

“Zach, I’m so glad you came. I know it would really mean a lot to him. He would’ve wanted you to be here,” Joan said softly. Her hand was still resting on Zach’s forearm. Zach shook his head a little bit. He felt bad. He wasn’t sure what she was saying was true. But how could he be? He hadn’t spoken to Frankie in three years. He had no idea where Frankie’s head had been. 

Zach had spent the last three years purposefully trying to ignore Frankie and move on with his life. He even had a girlfriend, Alison, who he was pretty sure he loved. They’d been together for a year. His world came crashing down around him two weeks ago when news broke that Ariana Grande’s plane had gone missing. He found out just a few hours later that Frankie had been on that plane. That was probably one of the darkest days of his life. He didn’t like to think about it. It still made his heart hurt, like a vice grip squeezing something awful. 

The wreckage of the small jet was found in a mountainous, scarcely inhabited region of Mexico about a week later. He’d spent a week torturing himself and shutting everyone else out. He’d lied to his girlfriend, claiming he was sick. Then, at the urging of his mother, he pulled himself at least halfway together and managed to only curl up and cry late at night. He had so many regrets tied to the intense silence that had hung between him and Frankie for three years. He had never stopped loving Frankie. He just didn’t know how their stormy relationship would ever work out, so they’d chosen to end it. Zach wasn’t sure he’d ever find love that burned as bright as Frankie’s again.

Zach smiled weakly at Joan and held out a rose to her. He wasn’t sure why he’d gotten so hung up on bringing a pink rose. Surely it was because “Rose” had kind of become a thing between him and Frankie. He knew everyone used it, or at least, all of Frankie’s friends used the term. Somehow though, Zach had still thought it was special between them. The pink part was too obvious to over think.

“Here. I just wanted to bring you something. It’s incredibly kind of you to invite me to this, considering the years of silence. I-I am s-so sorry,” Zach replied. He was trying to keep it together, but his voice was cracking at the end and he was thankful to stop talking. Joan hugged him. Zach was a little taken aback, but relaxed into the hug.

She took the flower, regarding the soft pink petals. She touched them lightly and smelled the center of the flower. She looked up at Zach then and he swore his heart broke again. Those big brown eyes staring back at him were too much like Frankie’s. It felt so familiar and so foreign all at once. His breath hitched in his throat. He couldn’t speak. He just stared ahead, willing himself to ignore the excruciating ache in his chest that wouldn’t stop. The tears sprang to his eyes and he let them fall. He couldn’t even form enough coherent thoughts to consider wiping them away.

Joan smiled at Zach softly, watching him intently. It was like she could see through his head and see his mind turning as he desperately tried to catch up to reality. He was always too transparent. Joan thanked him for the flower and pointed through the window in the living room and out on the patio. There was a small group of people outside. He recognized them immediately—one blonde girl and a few guys.

Zach nodded and headed for the door to the patio. He paused at the door, his hand on the handle, once again considering running and forgetting the whole thing. He had no idea how he’d be received by Frankie’s friends. Sure, Jon-Erik had called him with the news and ultimately relayed the invite to the memorial service at the Grande’s Florida home, but he still wasn’t sure. He had no idea what Frankie had told them or how Frankie had felt about him over the last three years.

He wished he could just snap his fingers, wiggle his nose, or do whatever else witches on TV did to transport themselves. He didn’t know where he’d go though. Nowhere would feel good or normal anymore. Maybe, he’d just turn back time. Maybe he’d change what had happened three years ago, or what had happened four years ago. Hell, maybe he’d even go back and change what happened five years ago when they’d first set foot outside of the Big Brother house. Whatever change was needed to bring Frankie back is what he would do. His world was so much darker without him. He hadn’t even realized how it had slowly dimmed over the years, but after having two weeks to mourn on his own, he saw it clearly. The plunge into darkness he’d experienced so suddenly and without warning, ironically, had made everything so much clearer.

Zach dropped his hand from the door handle. He looked up at them one last time, preparing himself to turn around and leave. However, Strigs looked up at that moment, meeting his eyes instantly. Zach swallowed, opening the door and stepping out into the cruel heat once again.

Strigs regarded him with cool, appraising eyes. He supposed he deserved it. It’s not like he’d really done anything wrong. The decision to end whatever was going on between him and Frankie so many years ago had been mutual. Still, lately, he’d felt like he’d made the mistake. He’d given up too easily and he’d allowed Frankie to give up on him. Zach smiled sheepishly at her, trying not to break down in front of her, but the way she looked at him hurt. It was like a cold knife in his heart. He knew this would be hard, even harder than seeing Joan. Joan had always been more diplomatic. Strigs’ opinions and feelings were hardly ever bottled up. 

Zach waived awkwardly at the group and was so relieved when Jon-Erik walked forward, hugging Zach quickly. Zach relaxed a little then. He regarded the group, looking each one of them in the eye briefly before he spoke. They were all looking at him. He felt like he had to say something. He stuttered at first, but managed to utter, “I’m so sorry guys. I know how much he meant to each of you. I don’t even know why I was invited to this. I shouldn’t have come. I don’t belong here.” Zach shook his head gently and cast his gaze downward, his vision blurring from the unshed tears building up. He didn’t know what else to say.

Strigs’ face seemed to soften as she watched him. When the tears fell from Zach’s eyes, she felt tears well up in her own eyes. She shook her head, grabbing Zach by the hand and pulling him from the patio and to the staircase in the main room. She paused at the stairs, looking back over her shoulder. She nodded to someone in the distance. Zach searched the room and saw Joan nodding back at them. Zach was completely bewildered. She began marching up the stairs, dragging Zach behind her.

Suddenly, Zach realized where they were going and he tried to resist. He pulled back, trying to get her to stop. She wouldn’t stop moving. She kept tugging on his arm, relentless. He pleaded with her, “No! Please! I can’t! Please stop!”

If eyes could kill, they would’ve killed Zach at that moment. She wasn’t taking no for an answer. Zach relented. He allowed her to pull him to the door of Frankie’s room. She opened it and walked in. Zach stood in the doorway. Memories were flooding back. Zach saw himself professing his love for Frankie so many years ago. He remembered kissing Frankie against this doorframe. He felt a tug at his heart when he saw the picture of him and Frankie from five years ago on finale night. Somehow, it was still framed and on Frankie’s shelf. Zach didn’t understand how Frankie had left it there. Zach hadn’t been able to keep any images of Frankie around. That’s why he’d hidden that very same picture, folded up, inside a book in his bedroom. 

Zach finally stepped in the room, walking immediately to the framed picture of the two of them. He touched the glass there, leaving fingerprints in the fine sheen of dust that coated the picture. A sob escaped from Zach. He regretted it because he didn’t want Strigs to know, but it was also unavoidable. He felt her hand touch his shoulder. He turned around quickly, embarrassed by his behavior. Her face was tender now. Zach’s head was spinning as he tried to keep up with her volatile emotions.

“I found this in New York. I almost didn’t give it to you. I didn’t want to give it to you until I saw you. You need it,” she said. She handed him an envelope. On the front, in Frankie’s handwriting, was the word “Zach.” He took the envelope from her. He flipped it over, noting how it wasn’t sealed. It didn’t look like it had ever been sealed. He looked up at her questioningly.

“Sit. Read. Stay as long as you want. Take whatever you need to. Joan said it was okay. Say goodbye before you leave. Please,” she instructed before she hugged him quickly and left the room.

Zach stood, frozen to the spot. He glanced around the room. It looked almost the same. There were very few changes from how he remembered it. He looked down at the envelope in his hand. He traced his finger over his name. Frankie had written whatever was inside. That fact weighed heavily on him. 

She had told him to sit, but he didn’t know if he could. The only options were the bed or the floor. He wanted to sit on the bed, but he didn’t know if he should. He took the few steps required to stand next to the bed. He leaned over, touching the bedspread. It was the same as it had been all those years ago. He reached to pick up the smaller pillow in the center of the bed. He held it to his chest and squeezed. He wasn’t prepared for how it would still smell like Frankie. He had been trying to remember that smell for weeks and couldn’t. Now, here it was, in his hands.

Zach chose to sit then. He slipped his shoes off and climbed onto the bed. He sat in the middle, crossing his legs and arranging the pillow he’d been holding over his lap. He closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts and move past the surreal feeling he was having right now. He flipped the envelope over and pulled out a single piece of paper, folded into thirds.

He opened it carefully. The first thing he noticed was the date at the top. It was from almost two years ago. This letter was nearly two years old. Frankie had sat on it for two years and never sent it. Zach felt like he was invading Frankie’s privacy and he almost closed the letter and put it away, but Strigs’ words echoed in his mind. “You need it,” she’d said. That’s what she’d said. He wasn’t sure how much he trusted her judgment, but then again, she’d likely read the letter already. Plus, he so desperately wanted to hear from Frankie again and this was the only way that was even a possibility. So, he decided he should read it.

_Zachary,_

_We haven’t spoken in over a year now. I have no idea how your life is proceeding these days. I hope you are well. I’ve always wanted the best for you and that will never change._

_I have no purpose to write this letter, other than to tell you what our time together meant to me. I don’t know if I had ever felt so fully loved by a person than when you were by my side for that short time. I remember how much it hurt to be apart and how we’d slowly ripped our own relationship to shreds when we were. I also remember the feeling of completeness I felt when you kissed me the first time. I could chase that feeling for forever._

_We were a fireball that grew too hot. It was as beautiful as it could be, but deadly. I’ll never regret it. I hope that you don’t either._

_Lately, I’ve decided to leave more things up to fate. It’s not worth it to think about the future. Now is what we have and I’m going to live it. I know the past will always be there and I don’t want to forget it or shun it. I want to cherish it. So that is what I am going to do._

_I still hope that someday the embers will rekindle and we’ll be able to tend to the flame better, keeping a steady fire instead of a flash in the pan. In the absence of that wish coming true, I hope you are happy. Be happy Zach. Find someone to love and love them with everything you have because I can attest to the fact that your love feels like no one else’s love._

_I’ll always miss you. I’ll always wish you’d been mine._

_I love you still,_

_Frankie_

A tear fell onto the bottom corner of the paper and Zach wiped it away quickly. He read it again. Then he read it a third time. By that point, the tears streaming down his face were slowing. It was everything he wanted and everything he didn’t want all at once—an admission, a confirmation, an inspiration, and worst of all, a conclusion.

Zach folded the letter carefully, placing it back in the envelope. He set it down on the bed, getting up again and walking around Frankie’s room. It was hard, but it was easier than before. He found himself inside Frankie’s closet, looking at the many clothes there. He was surprised to see his ‘Team Zach’ shirt. Zach quickly tossed his suit jacket to the ground. He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside as well. Then he pulled the pink shirt off of its hanger and pulled it over his head. It was too small for him, but he didn’t care. Zach returned to Frankie’s room, grabbing the blanket from the bottom of the bed. Zach remembered this blanket. He’d slept beneath it, next to Frankie, once before. He climbed back on the bed, grabbing the pillow from Frankie’s side of the bed and burying his face in the soft fabric and comforting smell. He pulled the blanket over himself and closed his eyes. 

His mind danced with the happy memories of his time with Frankie. _They were dancing. They embraced, as close as possible, smiling for a picture that he’d yet to realize would come to mean so much to both of them. Frankie winked at Zach from a Broadway stage. Zach was hiding, waiting to surprise Frankie backstage and relishing the immediate embrace when he revealed himself. Zach was yelling across a crowded room at Frankie, telling him that he loved him. Frankie was singing to him. He and Frankie were singing Ari’s songs together. Frankie was holding him close. Frankie was whispering sweet nothings in Zach’s ear. Frankie’s fingers soothed every worry Zach had with the gentle rubbing of his ear._ Zach fell asleep. He missed the entire memorial service being held downstairs for Frankie and Ari, but he slept better than he had since he’d turned on the TV in the middle of the night, watching the news anchors cover the story of the missing plane for hours. When he woke up, it was pitch black in Frankie's room.

He reached in his pocket, checking his phone for the time. It was almost midnight. Zach got out of bed immediately, grabbing his jacket and shirt off the floor. He slung them over his shoulder along with the blanket he’d been sleeping with. He grabbed Frankie’s pillow and the letter from the bed. He stopped in front of the picture of them together. He reached for it and then decided against it. It belonged here, where Frankie had chosen to leave it despite the years of silence. It belonged in Frankie’s room. He turned back at the doorway, looking around the dark room, illuminated only by the moonlight through the window. He whispered, “Goodbye Franklin. I, too, love you still,” before he pulled the door shut and turned away.

Zach headed down the staircase, stopping at the bottom. He walked toward the living room slowly and saw Joan sitting on the sofa. She was talking quietly to a few of Frankie’s friends and Frankie’s dad was sitting next to her, his hand holding hers. He felt intrusive. He turned to leave, but Strigs called out his name. 

“I said, don’t leave without saying goodbye—to us, or to him. Come with me,” she stated. Zach set the pillow, blanket, and letter down on the table nearest him. He followed her outside. The back yard was barely lit from the glow of the patio lights. She grabbed a small box from a podium and handed it to him. Zach looked down at the box, he could guess what it was. He unlatched the lid and saw ashes inside. He closed it quickly. Strigs nodded and then shrugged at him. “I thought you’d want one too. I saved it for you. Don’t worry, Joan knows about it. You can take it wherever you want. Scatter it or keep it. It’s up to you. He once told me he wanted everyone he loved to have a small piece of him when he died. He loved you. I know he did and that letter says it better than I could ever attempt to explain it. I also want you to know that he was happy,” she assured him.

Zach nodded solemnly. He leaned over to hug her. The embrace was warm and lasted longer than the one from earlier. “Thank you,” Zach murmured before breaking the embrace. They walked silently back inside the house. Zach hugged Joan and then each of Frankie’s friends. He shook hands somberly with Frankie’s father, who he’d only met briefly more than four years ago. He said his goodbyes and they said theirs. 

He walked out the door wearing the ‘Team Zach’ shirt with Frankie’s blanket still over his shoulder. He clung to the pillow, the letter, and a small wooden box as he made his way to his car. On the drive home, he finally let it go and vowed to do as Frankie had wished. He would be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Of note, the summaries and titles of this work and "I'll Always Miss You" all come from Kate Voegele's song "We The Dreamers", just in case anyone was interested.


End file.
